


Domestic Days

by Etaleah



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Consensual Sex, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has All the Genders (Good Omens), Crowley Has Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley Has Long Hair (Good Omens), Crowley Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Fluff without Plot, Fluffy Ending, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kissing, Loneliness, Love, M/M, Neck Kissing, Sex, She/Her Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), Temptation, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), vague on details though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 15:16:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20909756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etaleah/pseuds/Etaleah
Summary: Aziraphale has been so busy that Crowley is sorely missing his affections. Good thing he knows exactly how to charm his angel into a fun day in bed.





	Domestic Days

The soft pajamas and dressing gown constituted a silent understanding between Crowley and Aziraphale.

Most of the time, they stayed in the closet, ignored in favor of Crowley's much flashier, more expensive and stylish sleepwear. He never wore them outside the house. These were older, comfortable, the sort you didn't mind spilling a bit of tea on. They weren't the kind of clothing that most people would consider attractive and about as far from lingerie as you could get. The plaid trousers, cotton T-shirt, and dressing gown covered him head to toe with the belt tied tightly around his waist, keeping everything well hidden.

Aziraphale went crazy for it.

Something about the gown swishing as Crowley walked and the tautness of the belt against his belly did something to him. The bedhead and bare feet only added to the effect, especially when combined with sleepy, shade-less eyes. Warmth and coziness emanated from Crowley when he wore those pajamas and dressing gown, reminding Aziraphale of everything he loved: warm blankets with hot cups of cocoa and good books on cold rainy nights. He couldn't keep his hands off that soft material nor the skin underneath it.

Crowley knew this, of course, and enjoyed the practically Pavlovian response that occurred whenever he walked into the sitting room. Aziraphale might be doing something completely mundane, like reading a book or going through his papers, when all of a sudden, he would see Crowley in those clothes and immediately throw aside what he was doing and close the distance between them. He held Crowley as close to him as was possible, touching and kissing whatever he could reach, breathing heavily as his lower body began to pay attention.

It was a welcome change.

Even now, when they lived together and could be go anywhere they wished without fear of being watched, Crowley could get lonely. Bookworms were much better at being alone for long stretches of time. Foodies made friends easily with all of the culinary events a big city could bring. Being both, Aziraphale had book clubs and favorite restaurants where everyone who worked there knew his name and could converse for hours. He was even part of a knitting group where he and a bunch of little old ladies made tartan sweaters every week. With all of that plus his deeds as an angel, he could easily be busy for a week.

Crowley missed him.

Every once in a while, he craved that reassurance that Aziraphale really _did _love him and want to be with him. More than that, he wanted the angel to _show _it, to initiate, rather than just say the words.

The one sure way to make that happen?

Wear the pajamas and dressing gown. And it helped to grow his hair out.

He had done the latter this week, waiting patiently for Sunday, the one time of the week when Aziraphale would be home all day. He had lain in bed, thinking back to the previous month.

_Let me tempt you to…_

_What do you say to…_

Every time they had done something, it had been because Crowley suggested it. He was used to that for the most part; it had been their routine for centuries. One was the aggressive temp_ter_, the other the docile temp_ted_. They knew their jobs. Their roles.

Fuck that. Crowley wanted someone else to do the work for a change. And he wanted some goddamn attention.

He turned his head to look out the window at the starry sky, and was reminded of a fairy tale Aziraphale had read to him once about a princess who was carried off by either a prince or a knight, Crowley couldn't remember which. The illustrations had depicted her lying limp on the bed, submissive but smiling, while the fellow on top of her pleased them both.

Crowley smiled. A few quick miracles, and she had a new body. A body resembling the princess'.

She couldn't wait for morning.

* * *

When morning finally came, she donned the clothes, swished her long, wavy hair, and headed to the sitting room. Good thing Aziraphale was the early bird, so she could always surprise him. He was reading the paper while sipping his morning coffee. She smiled, trying to be sweet and sly at the same time, and quietly approached him. With a tilt to the side to let her hair fall just the right way, Crowley clasped her arms in front of her.

"Good morning," she said, batting her eyelashes.

"Yes," he said, laying the paper down. "Good morning, dear—oh!" She giggled as his mouth fell into a perfect little O. "You look, um, you…" Words failing him, he put his hands on her waist and tried to pull her into his lap.

She swatted his hands away. "Silly thing, you need your breakfast." Aziraphale was the picture of utter devastation as she headed for the kitchen, making sure to swish her hair and gown behind her.

Crowley had only just gotten the bread and butter onto the counter when his arms encircled her and his lips were on her neck. He hugged her tightly, running his hand up and down her curvy body while nuzzling her with his nose. She pretended to ignore him, buttering a slice of bread. He sucked at her neck and had left a good-sized mark by the time she had finished sprinkling the sugar and cinnamon.

"How many slices of cinnamon toast, angel?" she asked. "Two or three?"

"I'd rather eat you," he said, pressing into her, cock already showing interest. His hands were grasping for the tie of her dressing gown.

"Two it is." She started another, smiling ever wider. He had managed to untie her and was slipping his hands up her shirt. She closed her eyes as they traveled up and down her belly while he kissed her over and over. This was more than they'd done in days.

Slapping another slice of bread onto the counter, Crowley went to work. Aziraphale gently squeezed her breasts. He licked her neck very, very slowly, making her shiver.

"You're beautiful," he whispered into her ear. "Can't keep my hands off you."

She smirked. "That so? I never would have guessed."

He moved his hands down and hugged her tighter. "Let's go back to bed."

_Yes. _Finally his full attention was on her, and would be for the next several hours. She reveled in it. Savored it.

But she wasn't about to let him know it.

"Come on, Aziraphale. It's time for breakfast. The sun's already up. Maybe later tonight—"

"Now." He sounded urgent, and she realized he had hardened considerably. "Please. You know what this outfit does to me. I can't see you in it and not—not—"

"Yes?" She teased. "Not _what?"_

"Not…love you. Love you very, very much." She giggled. Aziraphale was never one for dirty talk.

He moaned. "Pleeeease."

She covered his hands with her own. "I suppose," she said, leaning back against him. "If you were to whisk me away, I should be powerless to stop you." She leaned even further, nearly swooning, looking up at him with adoring eyes.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Aziraphale swept her off her feet and into his arms, carrying her to their bedroom. Less than a minute later, he was naked and straddling her, tugging at the waistband of her trousers. She closed her eyes and lay back, going limp and relaxing.

"Oh, this will be rather lovely," he said. She giggled. Aziraphale never stopped being Aziraphale, even in bed. One of the many things she loved about him.

He suddenly dropped on top of her, making her gasp. Quick as a whip, his tongue was in her mouth, and his hands reached for hers. Using soft, light material, he tied her wrists together so they met around his back, his fingers so skilled they knew what to do even with his eyes closed. When he had explored her mouth thoroughly, he moved down to push his face under her shirt and kiss her breasts. He squeezed them again and then spread her legs, pulling her pants and trousers down just enough to have access. She shut her eyes in bliss, breathing heavily. Her feet were soon tied together around his waist as well, and she was relieved. All she had to do was lie back and enjoy. He would take care of everything else. Of her.

"Fast or slow?" he asked.

She kept her eyes closed. "I'll leave it to you."

He chose fast.

Aziraphale pushed inside her, far as he could, and wrapped his arms around her back to bring her closer. He held her tightly, hot and throbbing inside her, and she held on to him, holding back tears at the joy of being so close to him. She moved her head back and he covered her neck with his mouth, making her moan along with him.

Even after they had both come, he kept going. Harder, faster, until she was trembling and her heart was about to burst. When she finally came again with a sigh, he wasted no time in untying her, flipping her over to her belly. He slid a pillow underneath her and tied her to the bed before taking her from behind.

She screamed as he opened her up wider than she had thought possible, gripping her shoulders as he thrust hard and fast. He came quickly this time, filling her with heat, and just when she too had released for the third time, he had her on her back again. Aziraphale kissed away her tears and whispered love into her ears as he entered her one more time, hitting all of her sweet spots until she came for the fourth time, so overwhelmed she couldn't see or breathe. She could only hold onto him for dear life.

"Shh, it's all right, love," Aziraphale crooned, rubbing her back. He had softened between the legs and was moving slowly now. He untied her again and stroked her hair.

"I suppose I _did _go overboard, but it had been a while, and well, you in those clothes." When Crowley didn't answer, he pulled away, looking worried. "Crowley? Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She managed to nod. "Sore," she croaked. Indeed, everything from the waist down ached, tears still ran down her cheeks, and her heart was racing. Yet she had never felt better.

Aziraphale held her for a long time, calming her down with the gentlest of touches. When she was relaxed and close to sleep, he picked her up and carried her to the bath, where he cleaned them both carefully and dressed her before putting her to bed.

Just as she was drifting off, he asked, "Were you feeling neglected, dear?"

"Mm." Crowley opened one eye. "Just a bit."

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale said, kissing her hand. "If you like, I'll cancel my plans for the week. Just the two of us."

Crowley smiled. "Really?"

"Of course." He took her into his arms. "There really is no one I would rather be with."

Crowley sighed happily and snuggled into his arms. She decided to wear her princess clothes for one more day, maybe two, and then hang them up and be his old self again. He and Aziraphale would visit all of their favorite places before ending up right back in the best one of all: their home.


End file.
